I have long-believed that we are given the same or similar hardship or growth opportunity, over and over, time and time again, until we finally learn the lesson. Though we may disagree, we are always given the tools to deal with those situations. It's usually an issue of our willingness to listen, to slow down and pay attention, or to have faith in something greater than ourselves that prevents us from learning those lessons. How many times have we looked around and found ourselves in a different geographic location or life stage only to hear the echo of familiar circumstances or problems all around us?
I left my job at the school of medicine, years ago, because the water was stale, I was stale, and I knew that I would do things a bit differently if given the chance. I would put up with less, expect more, and steel myself against the forces of the world (and workplace) that conspire against decent souls trying to do a decent job in indecent times. I learned much at the School of Medicine job and took those lessons with me to the School of Vet Medicine. And then, when I left there just months ago, I realized that (once again) I had been given the "opportunity" to finally learn some old lessons (and I did) and tackle some new ones (hopefully, on the first pass).
So, what then, am I to learn from the UCSF application process and the rejection letter I received from them this past week?
Well, unlike previous responses of "no" in my lifetime, the rejection didn't send me into a spiral of self-doubt or contemplation of my worthiness...finally conquered that "lesson!" I didn't question or berate my performance, on paper or in person...check that "opportunity" off the list! I haven't been discouraged from trying again, for fear of another "no" or of eventually being shown that I wasn't, in fact, enough...finally can scratch that "one" off, too!
So, what then, was the point of this all? Everything, for all intents and purposes, has pointed to this school and this opportunity being destined. It has been easy for us to save money for the move...quitting my job was timed well, perfectly, and we were able to get plenty of help from family to keep us afloat on one income...the interview was stellar (this coming from the worst critic of myself I've known...if it weren't me, I'd kick my own butt!)...Paul's job end date and the date we could get an apartment in the city were timed ideally as well. So, for one who believes in all things happening for a reason, I was quite confident and content in the path our lives were following.
I called UCSF thinking that they could give me some insight as to why I was rejected (again) and, in turn, how I could improve my next application. I was given no more information than I was last year. I was told that my application was the strongest that they had seen in the history of the program. The individual I spoke to said that they could see no critical remarks of my interview performance, and said that the interviewer stated that I was a competent and accomplished applicant. That was all they had.
Then it hit me one night.
I've always had a faith in God. I think that it has ebbed and flowed with the joys and tragedies in my life. I think that there was a time, a very dark and difficult time in my life, when I felt forgotten or left behind, but I never lost faith that He existed. As I've grown older, my blessings have multiplied and hindsight has allowed me to realize that my prayers and cries for help during that dark time WERE answered...because I survived. I've always known that God has a plan and intention for every single one of us, regardless of how worthy or unworthy we humans have believed ourselves or others. However, I've never fully surrendered myself to that promise.
Anyone who knows me well agrees that I'm fiercely independent and have been raised by two parents who instilled in me the confidence and drive to always be able to take care of myself, to work for what I want, and to firmly believe that there is nothing in this world that I can't do. I, too, was always a kid who knew EXACTLY what she wanted to be when she grew up. It may have changed from day to day, but I was always pursuing something with fervor and the confidence that I would get that thing if I worked hard enough. I was a bit of a fanatic and took that lovingly-instilled sense of responsibility and independence to the n-th (often pathological) degree. I finally came to a comforting and startling realization recently, one night as I watched the sun set...both upon the land and the newly-gained knowledge that I would not be pursuing MY plans and MY dreams on MY schedule at UCSF...
I'm not the one in control.
I am NOT the one in control.
Wow. That only took 30 years (and more self-imposed heartache than I could ever describe) to learn. And, boy, what a relief that knowledge is!
Over these past few days I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of searching, and a lot of praying. For a girl who's always working towards a goal, who's rarely been told "no", and who truly believes that she's in control of all the good and bad that befalls her, being aimless and lost and out of control has been crippling. I've hardly been able to get out of my own way until my realization that night.
We've been blessed, recently, with many gentle reminders that He is near us and taking care of us at every step of the way. The eve of my epiphany, I was given another such symbol as I gazed west at the setting sun:
A cloud shaped like a dove (I know, cliche) was perched in the sky. As the clouds moved across the sky, the wind stirred and scattered and swirled them all...except the dove formation. It remained firm in its shape, resolute, clear and unmistakable.
I knew that I had done the best I could have in my application to UCSF; I did the same thing last year. I was beating myself up for not having a defined direction anymore, and I felt powerless in my ability to attain what it was that I wanted and thought that I needed. I was my own worst enemy and, for years, had used language and regard reserved for our enemies to address myself in my perceived shortcomings. That night, I found myself on my knees, crying, and surrendering my will to His. I was not in control and I didn't want to be anymore. I did not necessarily know what was best for me and our future, and the responsibility I felt to know just that had left me with years of emotional battle scars. I have limitations...He does not.
Now, I find myself a bit ragged from the journey, a bit thread-bare. So, I chose to put my faith, not in my abilities and strengths, but in His love and in the knowledge that I have a purpose that, if I'm willing to listen and forget my own ego and will, He will reveal to me.
That rejection letter has been the catalyst for some amazing change. I'm happier with myself than I have been in a very long time. I still have some work to do and acclimation ahead to this new way of thinking (a 30-year habit is hell to break!), but I'm hopeful and definitely know that I am not the one who needs to know or control all the "why"s and "how"s. I'll leave that job to the one who can bare that responsibility without cracking...carry that load without buckling...and who will never lead me down a path without also giving me the tools to traverse it.
Paul and I are letting the dust settle a bit before we make any major decisions. A job in Virginia still looms as well as the potential for new research work in San Diego. I will apply to pharmacy school again next year, but UCSF will never have to send me another letter. I don't doubt my ability or perhaps the plan to be a pharmacist. I have learned, however, that we're not meant for that city, and I'll be applying next year to UC San Diego as well as a few other schools in California and nearby. If they all send me rejection letters, then I'll readdress (with a lot of help from above) how I'm supposed to make my life's contributions.
Until then, I'm going to enjoy this new en-lightenment (freedom) and know that this is only the tip of the iceberg...we have so much more life to live!
This past weekend, Paul and I made our way down Hwy 128 (West towards Napa) to a beautiful portion of the northern coast range known as Stebbins Cold Canyon Reserve. The land is used for research as well as preservation of over 100 bird and nearly 300 plant species. I've never been to the reserve and Paul had only been once, years ago, for a UCD entomology class field trip. The entrance to the reserve isn't marked with any elegant or grandiose signs. It's simply a fire road, with a tube gate, located not-too-far from the Monticello Dam (itself, having a VERY interesting story) at Lake Berryessa. So we loaded up the VW and headed west to find the elusive entrance to Stebbins Cold Canyon.
So, Paul and I wound up at our old standby...Putah Creek. He took me to a little-used portion of this huge creek (it stretches 70 miles, from Lake County to Napa County), behind the UCD Raptor Center. We hiked for about three hours...boy, time flies out there! We saw a river otter, beaver, and plenty of hawks, kytes, and smaller song birds. We just love the greenery down by the creek. Every year, the thistle berry (that's what we call it...not sure of the real name) grows as high as we are tall.
We've watched squirrels climb this prickly, spiny plant and deftly remove the artichoke-like head. The thorns of the thistle pose little obstacle to the squirrels as they pull out the feathery flower parts and eat the little seeds. It's an awesome thing to watch! We've tried doing the same (pulling out the seeds, not eating them!)...OUCH!
